Akatsuki Members Should Not Take Menial Missions
by TheArchives
Summary: Sometimes even SClass missing nin have stupid jobs. Crack shonenai oneshot. KisameItachi.


Akatsuki Members Should Not Take Menial Missions.

By: Sneaky Cat

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Naruto.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: KisaitaKisa (a.k.a. Kisame/Itachi)

Warnings: Some OOCness, sillyness, Akatsuki members, and shonen-ai, bad jokes and crack. Lots of crack

Notes: This was originally inspired by Banana Oil's Banana Bread Fanfiction Contest, way back in the day. Since I never finished it in time for the contest and it's been sitting on my harddrive not doing anything for awhile, it's now here for your entertainment. The theme used for this fic was the phrase: she/he ogled and then told him, "Did anyone ever tell you that you look hot in pink." Also, this is an extension of the first Operation Red Moon drabble, Dance Club.

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Uchiha Itachi was pissed. Not your normal kind of evil-uber-powerful-clan-killing-Uchiha pissed. Really pissed.

He and Kisame had just been informed of their latest mission.

It appeared simple enough on the surface – the assassination of a well known criminal lord in Wind country who was gaining a little too much power for their leader's comfort. The Akatsuki leader wouldn't have thought anything of it, had said adversary not been an S-class missing nin himself. As their leader had explained, it would be safer to be rid of him now, while he was still weak, rather than allow the growth of a potential rival.

That had made more than enough sense. It was the other part of their mission that was making Itachi rage.

Not only were they required assassinating this fool, they were required to infiltrate his base- a gay bar.

Itachi was sorely tempted to screw all common sense and slit their bastard leader's throat immediately.

That urge was going to grow nearly unbearable before the end of this trial.

He could have handled this.

Really he could have.

Then their leader had decided to …_help_ them… prepare…

Cue Itachi's homicidal rage.

Kisame glanced towards the door. He was seriously tempted to run for it while he still could.

Unfortunately, Diedara was standing by the door with an evil glint in her eyes. His eyes. Kisame scowled in frustration. At least he was_ certain_ that Itachi was male!

And why couldn't the damned woman… man… thing… just let him out? Kisame had no intention of staying in a room that was about to get torched.

And from the mischievous glint in their leader's eyes, things were only going to get worse.

A lot worse.

"I am only suggesting" Translation: ordering. "that you allow me to help you prepare." Translation: allow me to torment you in strange and unholy ways. That gleam radiating from their leader was positively evil.

Kisame shuddered.

What had he done to deserve this?

Correction. What had Itachi done to deserve this?

Besides being born unnaturally effeminate.

Then again, by their leader's standards, that might have been just enough to warrant this kind of torture.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Itachi's voice was low, dangerous, and (to Kisame's ears at least) positively livid. Either their leader was oblivious to this fact, or he was trying to make it worse.

Their leader shrugged in response to Itachi's question, a small smirk crossing his lips. The bastard wasn't even attempting to hide his amusement with the situation.

"Have you ever been to a gay bar before?"

Itachi did not favor that response with an answer.

Their leader's smirk grew.

"You two will need to blend in as much as is possible," he told them. Things they already knew well. Again Kisame wondered why the psychopath even bothered to use him for these missions. Their leader continued: "To my knowledge, neither of you have ever performed a mission like this."

Of course they hadn't!

"And as the result of this mission is rather important to our organization…"

Bullshit.

"I feel inclined to make sure you two are properly prepared."

You just want an excuse to dress Itachi up, don't you.

Kisame was not a happy shark. Itachi was not a happy ninja. Deidara and their leader both looked far to pleased with themselves.

Kisame's eye twitched. Did that art happy moron con their leader into this?

Actually, there was probably no need to con their leader into something like this. The man was crazy enough to try this without prompting from any of their coworkers.

The span of the next ten minutes was so unintelligible that by the time Kisame had figured out what had happened, Itachi was standing in the center of the room, minus his cloak and plus one vibrant pink button down shirt.

Wait…

What?

Kisame shook his head.

Apparently their leader had also noticed his confusion, because the infuriating man gestured towards Itachi with a downright scary smirk on his face.

"Well Kisame, what do you think?"

Kisame was torn between asking what the hell had just happened and leaving the room as fast as possible. The look Itachi was giving him clearly said that if Kisame said _anything_ the shark wouldn't be seeing morning.

Kisame winced and shrugged. Crazy boss aside, he rather enjoyed his life, thank you.

Deidara, however, smirked, raising a finger to tap his chin. "Itachi, has anyone ever told you that you look absolutely ravishing in pink?" he asked.

Twitch. A pair of Sharingan eyes started spinning menacingly

Kisame headed for the door.

Well, they made it to the club. Despite the ruckus caused by their leader's assistance and Deidara's near suicidal comment, the mission was still on.

And Itachi was still wearing the pink shirt.

Kisame was almost tempted to ask their leader exactly how he managed to pull stunts like this and survive.

Almost.

Then again, that time the man had offered Zetsu a platter of flies…

No really. The man was insane.

Beyond insane.

On a level of insane that had yet to be reached by mortal man. And quite possibly suicidal on top of that.

Where was he? Oh yes. Mission.

And their target was nowhere to be found.

Typical.

Itachi's shoulder's tensed as one of the young patrons of the club passed them, giving the pretty Uchiha a not so subtle look of admiration. It didn't take a genius to notice that Itachi was more than uncomfortable in this sort of setting.

Not merely uncomfortable, he hated it. Detested it.

He was also about four seconds from showering flames down among the oblivious club-goers.

That particular man was only the first of many who took the opportunity to ogle Itachi's unusual, captivatingly dark beauty, and as each man turned to eye the Uchiha approvingly, Kisame could feel that sense of possessive resentment buried deep in his mind grow.

Itachi was not the only one who disliked the ogling.

The time crawled like a snail. A drugged snail. Kisame felt a near permanent tick begin to develop under his eye. One patron passed, than another, than another, than a particularly blinding one in a neon green catsuit, then one in skin tight leather pants, then a pair wearing matching pink boas and knee high orange boots.

Kisame was actually quite frightened to discover that, compared to many of the occupants of this establishment; he and Itachi actually appeared rather subdued. And Itachi was the one wearing a bright pink silk shirt.

Perhaps their leader _was_ a saner man than he had thought.

Kisame paused at that thought. A certain incident involving a certain (surprisingly still intact) Hawaiian shirt the man had tried to get Itachi to wear a year or so back caught his memory.

No. The man was not sane. At all. Kisame had no intention of _ever_ trying to discern exactly what the man's fascination was with dressing Itachi up.

"Hey pretty, can I buy you a drink?" Apparently ogling had just changed over into friendly approaches. Itachi eyed the man with eyes clearly (to Kisame at least) spelling out annoyance, wariness and distaste. Itachi twitched. Kisame twitched. Itachi's admirer didn't notice a thing.

"Come on, a pretty thing like you can do better." Kisame fought the urge to knife the man in the throat. Usually insults directed towards his looks didn't bother him, but that…

Itachi's eyes narrowed dangerously. He glanced at Kisame; he wasn't looking for permission. It was a warning.

Kisame slipped an arm around his partner's waist and leaned down. "Mission, Itachi-san," he murmured in the Uchiha's ear, before leveling his gaze at the man before them. "He's not interested," Kisame told him. The man scoffed.

"Why don't you let him speak for himself?"

Itachi looked vaguely amused by that comment, as if he was asking the man if he truly believed he was worth Itachi's time. Itachi shifted in his partner's hold, looking up at Kisame with an air of lazy amusement, before reaching up and pulling the man down for a light kiss.

Kisame blinked but followed along. He hadn't expected that.

However Itachi's little friend was certainly no longer a problem. Itachi glanced back towards the crowd and Kisame dropped his arm (not that he wanted to), watching carefully as Itachi's expression settled into a dreamy stare, as if he were envisioning the coming demise of the couple hundred people in this infernal (or soon to be infernal) club. More than one of Itachi's admirers were now clearly displaying looks of disappointment. Perhaps now they would leave his partner alone.

Then Itachi jumped sharply. Kisame jerked his head in Itachi's direction, surprised by his partner's rather blatant movement. Itachi wasn't paying him any attention. He was staring out at the crowd, eyes narrowed to mere slits. Kisame caught his arm before he took a step forward, pushing his hands back down to his sides and leaning down to whisper a reminder in his ear again.

"He _touched_ me." Itachi's voice was a low, dangerous, angry growl. Kisame raised an eyebrow. Touched?

"Pinched." Itachi clarified. The other eyebrow joined the first as Kisame caught on. Then his own eyes narrowed, turning towards the crowd, and particularly, the foolish young man who had dared to touch his partner's ass. What he wouldn't give to cleave the brat in half right now… though unfortunately he had been forced to leave the Samehada behind for this particular mission. His shoulders felt uncomfortably light without it.

Itachi attempted another step forward and Kisame shook himself, just in time to catch the Uchiha.

"Itachi-san…" Kisame warned again. His own jealousy (and yes, that was exactly what it was) could wait. For now he had to keep Itachi from blowing their cover.

Another hour passed with them staying near the bar, keeping their eyes on the crowd and at least four more incidents like that one. Itachi was practically smoking in fury. Kisame himself was grateful that Itachi's own anger gave him a distraction; else he too might have exploded by now. And then there would have been no one to hold back Itachi's flaming wrath.

A flash of scarlet near the door.

Finally.

Kisame didn't even have to alert his partner to the new arrival. Itachi's mesmerizing eyes were already zeroing in on their target with more intent than Kisame had seen in a long time.

The man in question turned away from them, making his way towards a leather covered, candle-lit booth in the corner (Why the man bothered with candles with all the neon lighting in the club, Kisame didn't bother to ponder). Patrons seemed to flock towards him, some giving a friendly hello, others lingering, a few draping themselves over the man. One inparticular, the very same man who had approached Itachi an hour before, whispered something in the club owner's ear and another, most likely an employee, poured a rather exotic looking drink.

Kisame gripped Itachi's shoulder. The Uchiha drew in a breath, then relaxed as much as he ever did. Soon. Their target was in sight. Now to wait until the right moment.

There was movement near the club owner. The man who had approached Itachi earlier was walking towards them again, this time with a confident, slightly aloof and challenging smirk on his face.

"The manager of this establishment requests your presence." The man bowed with an exaggerated flourish, deliberately ignoring Kisame as he did so. Itachi said nothing, expressed nothing in response, only gazed at the man with his cold dark eyes as if asking why he should care. The speaker coughed.

"It is considered a rather large privilege here to be requested like this. The manager, Hade Chijin-sama, is rather well known."

Kisame couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the name. It was rather… appropriate. And he seriously hoped that it was a moniker. Though why someone would chose such a thing as a nickname was beyond him. Why any mother would ever name her child such a thing was something he didn't even want to try to think about.

Itachi, however, didn't seem to have noticed the rather humorous (to Kisame at least) development. He was eyeing the man with an expression of disdain, as if asking why he should even care.

Kisame narrowed his eyes. He was about as thrilled with the situation as Itachi was.

"I told you earlier, he's not interested." Kisame hadn't really meant to be so gruff, but this… thing was being rather annoying. The man raised an eyebrow in response.

"If you refuse Hade-sama will have you thrown out of the club," he stated simply. Kisame bit his lip to keep from growling in response. They couldn't afford a set back. Their mission was to be completed tonight. And if they were thrown out, they were sure to be recognized attempting to get back in. Kisame was torn between mentally cursing at their leader for disregarding Kisame's rather obvious features and cursing the man in front of them for using such a pointless threat to his advantage.

It was to the man's advantage. Their mission depended on infiltrating this club. Failing now because of something so inane was not an option.

Apparently Itachi had come to a similar conclusion.

The Uchiha stepped forward, eyeing Kisame with a frustrated look, before quietly following behind the mediator. Kisame nearly stepped forward to stop him… and then read more in that look than just mere frustration. _The closer I get to this fool, the sooner he will die._

It was only the absolute certainty in Itachi's gaze that stopped Kisame from making a move.

Though he didn't show it, Itachi was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable the closer they got to the club's owner. He could feel the stares on him, undressing him, and they made him furious.

What he wouldn't give for a burst of flame to clean this place of idiocy once in for all.

Hade was eyeing him with the same look he had seen the moment he had stepped into the club: lust, appreciation, admiration, and a mild bit of jealousy. Itachi's eyes narrowed, matching the club owner's gaze fully.

"A fiery one eh? You do choose them well." Itachi's eyes snapped towards his guide, who was eyeing him with a superior look, as if to tell him that he should have taken his chance while he could have. Itachi glared back.

Did this man pick and choose men for Hade's benefit as if they were toys? On another occasion, Itachi would have merely ignored this revelation, but not when he was the 'toy' of choice.

"Come here," Hade beckoned Itachi forward, and Itachi froze, giving the man a disapproving stare. Hade raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk crossing his rather handsome face. "Don't be shy."

"Why me?" Itachi asked him quietly, still not moving forward. Hade rolled his eyes and stood, and Itachi could feel a certain pair of sharp eyes trained on his back as if they were trying to burn a hole in the person approaching him. Apparently Kisame was also rather displeased with this development.

_Mission._ Itachi reminded himself. It was almost over. He just needed to get close enough… close enough so that no one else would notice…

A though occurred to him… and nearly made him shudder. He turned his attention back to Hade, who was speaking through the angry haze.

"… besides, I like them pretty."

Then there was a hand on his face, and Hade was leaning towards him, brushing lips against his before Itachi even had a chance to react. Itachi closed his eyes… let the man's hands and lips wander, let Hade guide him back towards the leather couch all the while fighting the urge to rend him to little bloody shreds for _daring_ to put his hands on him.

_Mission._

Just a little further. A little closer and no one would even notice until it was too late.

A hand wandered lower.

_Mission._

He was sprawled against Hade, still not responding, but still allowing the man to touch him. He pushed down the fury building inside of him as the hands wandered further.

_Just a little closer. _

Another kiss.

Itachi's eyes snapped open, blood red and spinning furiously, meeting Hade's and trapping the man in deadly kaleidoscopes in seconds. Itachi leaned forward, brushing the man's ear with his lips.

"For the next seventy-two hours, you will experience nothing but the feeling of me tearing your organs from your body piece by piece… over, and over… if you even live that long."

Hade twitched, and Itachi pushed himself up, eyes glazing slightly as he met the gazes of the near by patrons, as furious blue-grey eyes met his.

And then the flames erupted.

Kisame pulled Itachi out of the burning club, dodging fleeing patrons and falling beams until they were out on the street and lost in the night where no one could see them and no one would find them. Their target was dead, and both of them had done a rather brilliant job of making sure any potential witnesses had been taken down with him. Kisame was particularly proud of that nice wooden stake he had stabbed through that damned manager's bitch on their way out.

They slowed to a walk, making a turn at the lamp post and heading down another, darker street towards the inn they were staying in for the night. Itachi was walking fast. Very fast. As if he wanted to put as much distance between that club and them as he could. Kisame didn't really blame him. With the way Hade had touched him…

Kisame bit back yet another growl. He had been doing that a lot tonight. More than he would like to admit. The sight of someone else with their hands on Itachi…

Speaking of… the smaller man had slowed down a bit. Itachi was now adamantly pulling at the buttons of his shirt. Was he trying to get the damned thing off?

Apparently he was, seeing as all but three of the buttons were now undone. Kisame grimaced. He hadn't liked watching Hade touch his partner like that. Hadn't liked that there was nothing he could do about it. It was Itachi's choice after all… but Itachi hadn't seemed to like it in the least. This entire mission had just been one bad situation after another.

Kisame once more had to fight back the urge to wonder exactly what their leader had been thinking. He was not in a mood to try and figure that psycho out.

"Kisame."

Itachi had stopped and was now looking at him with a strange expression, he clothes and hair disheveled and messed and his eyes dark once more… almost contemplative. He looked good. Very good.

Too good considering the situation they had just fled from.

"Itachi-san?" Kisame asked, carefully keeping his voice level.

"You were angry back there." It wasn't a question. Itachi had noticed his jealousy then, had he?

"So were you," Kisame answered. Itachi was watching him carefully, not unsure, but not completely certain either.

"Why?"

Now was really not the best time for Itachi to be bringing such a question up. Not when he had just been molested by a now very dead pervert, not when the club was smoking away only a mile behind them… not when he looked so damned good with his hair falling half out of it's normal tail and his shirt nearly hanging off of his pale shoulders.

"Itachi-san…"

The eyes gazed back at him expectantly, and Kisame sighed in defeat. There were about three ways to go about this: he could ignore the question, keep walking and get them safely back to the inn before anything awkward could happen; he could dismiss his jealousy entirely and spend the rest of the mission with Itachi's suspicious gazes glaring his brain into oblivion; or he could give in, admit everything that was going through his head and pray that Itachi didn't fry his brain for it.

None of the options seemed all that appealing.

Kisame thought back, thought about his jealousy at the club and of watching another man's hands wander over his irate, unwilling partner's body as if he owned him. What if this were to happen again? It wasn't a question of whether or not Itachi could take care of himself (he had proved that he could well enough tonight), but the more he thought about it, the more Kisame knew for certain that he didn't want it to happen again. He didn't want Itachi in that kind of situation again.

So he gave in. He stepped forward, closer and closer, until Itachi's back was against the wall of the building behind them and Kisame was pressing against him with his lips against his ear. "I didn't like watching him touch you," he answered truthfully.

"I didn't need your help." Itachi's answer was a warning more than a reassurance.

"No," Kisame agreed with him, and Itachi relaxed a fraction against the wall. "No you didn't. But I didn't have to like it."

And then his lips were on Itachi's and his hands were twining in the long hair, loosening it further until it fell out of its bind completely and tangled around his fingers. Itachi tensed against him for a moment, as unresponsive as he was in the club… and then slowly, very slowly, he began to push back, began to press into the other man and return the embrace. Itachi raised his arms, wrapping them around Kisame's neck and tangling his fingers in the short, loose (for a change) blue hair. This kiss grew hotter, fiercer, and Itachi could feel his lips begin to bruise.

It felt… good. All the frustration and anger he had felt throughout their mission was letting itself out in the most pleasurable way he could have ever thought of. And Kisame was there… not some greasy pervert or foolish lecher. It was Kisame…

"Perhaps we should continue this elsewhere." It took a minute for Itachi to register his partner's voice. He blinked at Kisame, then glanced around them, a small amount of defiance in his eyes. Kisame chuckled.

"Come," he said, and pulled Itachi away from the wall and off down the street.

Five long minutes later they tumbled into one of the small twin beds together, hands twining through hair and playing down fabric and skin and lips exploring each other mindlessly.

Kisame couldn't help but think to himself that what had been a long night was about to get a lot longer.

Miles away beneath the safety of layers upon layers of stone, Zetsu rubbed a finger against one of his temples, a slight tick appearing under one gold eye.

"May I retire now? _Fleshy little rabbits in rut are not entertaining, no…_"

Their leader grinned triumphantly at him, and then nodded an approval and watched as Zetsu stomped off towards the door muttering to himself about things he really did not want to see.

Akatsuki's leader glanced at Deidara, who was fiddling with a small clay mouse beside him and grinning hysterically.

"Mission accomplished."


End file.
